Keeping Faith
by Bellantara
Summary: Two years after the devastating final battle, only Lance still has hope for Keith's recovery. But will he-and Keith-be able to accept and adjust to their new normal when Keith finally wakes?
1. Chapter 1

So. . . . this started life as a story UsagiRyu was writing. With her blessing and wholehearted cooperation, I sorta kidnapped it and expanded it. Neither of us own anything; enjoy!

Captain Lance McClain slipped into the quiet, darkened hospital room, lit only by monitoring equipment and the random flashes of fireworks from the celebration outside. Silently he took a seat beside the bed, taking its occupant's limp, unresponsive hand in his own. "Two years, _Dorogoi,_ " he said softly, reaching over to tuck back a strand of his husband's silky black hair. "Arus has been free two years today. You should see all that's been done; I know you'd be pleased, have so many more ideas yourself. If you'd just. . ." Lance's voice broke on the words, his hand slipping down to caress Keith's still face as he remembered how they got to this point. . .

 _It had been a brutal fight. Four of the five lions lay helpless, and it was small consolation that they had taken the Drule fleet with them. Lance could only watch, helpless and half blind with pain, as Black lurched back into the sky, little better off than his Pride mates. He KNEW Keith was hurt, had heard the suppressed pain in his lover and commander's last orders. But the stubborn bastard was dead set on ending Lotor once and for all, no matter the cost. As Lance sat cradling his broken arm, cursing softly as the bones ground together, pretending he couldn't see the white bone poking out of his boot, Black tore into Lotor's ship with claws and knife. Explosions rocked the evil fighter; to Lance's horror, Black didn't pull away fast enough and was caught in them as well. All he could hear was Keith's agonized scream as Black plummeted to the ground._

 _As Black crashed and Keith's scream fell abruptly silent, Lance forgot his own pain and injuries. He struggled from Red's cockpit and crawled across the ruined ground to where Black lay on his side, jaw hanging open. Slowly he eased inside, calling Keith's name, heart pounding as he got no answer. Then it stopped altogether at the sight of Keith slumped lifelessly over the controls, white uniform dyed scarlet and a jagged chunk of metal protruding obscenely from the side of his ruined helmet. Swearing in every language he knew, Lance pulled himself over to Keith and held him close. "Oh, Goddess, no, please..." he whispered over and over, rocking Keith until the med evac teams showed up and forced them apart._

"Hello, Lance." The soft voice, still thick with his brother's unmistakable accent even after five years away from Earth, jerked Lance out of his memories, and he turned to find Sven leaning against the doorframe. "Still keeping vigil, I see." He shook his head slowly. "How long are you going to keep this up, _min bror_? Never has he shown any sign of vaking, since de accident, don't you tink it is time you vent on vit your life?" The King of Pollux crossed to sit in the other chair, putting his hand on Keith's.

"Would you, if it were Romelle lying there? He IS my life, he WILL wake up, and I WILL NOT leave him." Lance retorted softly, his attention still on Keith. He refused to restart the old argument. "You here for the celebration?"

Sven sighed in surrender. "Ja, mostly, but I also vanted to see you and Keit. Romelle vill be by later; she is going over some diplomatic tings vit Allura." Sven massaged Keith's hand and flexed the fingers with a gentleness usually only seen by his wife and son. "Erik is vit us too; you vill not recognize him, he has grown so." A proud smile creased Sven's face.

Lance chuckled. "He still think he's a Viking like Pappa?"

"Ja, he does, und Romelle vants vords vit you about de axe you got him for his birthday."

Lance shrugged. "Someone had to do it. And I would have been blamed anyway, so. . ." he spread his hands, then dropped one to Keith's cheek, absently noting that Keith needed his monthly shave.

Sven snorted. "She vould not haf a problem if Erik had not decided dat our Castle needed defending from the Council of Elders. He smacked Senior Counselor Honden in de groin de oter day!"

Lance snickered. "Honden'll get over it. Or die mad. Not like a two year old did much damage with a FOAM AXE."

"Ja, he vill. Goot ting he adores Erik. All Erik had to do vas flash his big blue eyes at him and go 'Sowwy.' Honden melted."

"Prince Erik Holgersson, the universe's cutest Viking," Lance laughed. "Honden didn't stand a chance!"

"Right now he's the universe's naughtiest one." Romelle and Erik entered Keith's room. She perched on Sven's knee, Erik ran to Lance and crawled on his lap, digging through his jacket pockets until he found the candy Lance always kept there. "I'm always afraid he's going to grab your gun when he does that," Romelle worried. "He could hurt himself, or you!"

Lance shook his head, watching Erik happily eat his prize. "Won't happen, honey. We've had this discussion, remember? Sven and me made sure he knows not to touch, and even if he DOES. . . Pidge did his thing with all our guns. Nobody but us can fire them." Romelle still looked unhappy, but subsided.

A tug on his shirt refocused his attention on Erik. "Unca Lance, Unca Keif still sweep?" the boy asked, looking over at the motionless form in the bed.

Lance hugged him. "Yes, little man. Uncle Keith is still sleep. He had a big owie."

"Vhat did Erik do now, _elske_?" Sven was asking his wife.

Romelle scowled. "He hit Duke Tamyrn's son. Apparently the boy snatched Erik's Blue Lion away from him and Erik head butted him in the stomach. Duke Tamyrn is furious, and threatening an interplanetary incident."

"Over a fight between a two year old and a spoiled rotten five year old?" Lance was incredulous. "Yeah, I know the kid. Allura will shut Tamyrn down in a heartbeat, don't worry. I'm just impressed that Erik did damage."

Romelle put her hands on her hips. "You're not helping, Lance McClain. Honestly, you and Sven are as bad as he is!"

Unnoticed in the adult conversation, Erik was watching Keith solemnly. "Unca Keif, you sleeps long enough! I wakes you up, like I does Pappa!" Abruptly he launched himself from Lance's lap, diving into the center of Keith's bed—and Keith himself—before anyone could move.

Predictably, Romelle recovered first, snatching Erik up. "Erik!" Her lecture died on her lips as a low sound came from the bed.

"Keith?" Lance fell to his knees by the bed, peering into Keith's face. "Honey, I heard you. Open your eyes for me, please?" He was rewarded with another weak groan, and the barest flutter of his love's lashes.

"I'll get Gorma," Romelle said hurriedly, all but flying out of the room with Erik. Lance gave no sign he'd heard; he was lost in broken sobs of relief. Sven knelt stiffly beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on Keith's leg, silently supporting his brothers.

45 minutes later, Dr. Gorma faced the Voltron Force and Commander Holgersson in Captain Kogane's overcrowded room. "Well, the Captain's brain activity has increased markedly," he began, "and his response to stimuli has definitely escalated. I believe it is. . . .guardedly safe to say he is beginning to come out of the coma."

Lance couldn't have kept the joy and vindication out of his voice if he'd wanted to. "I KNEW he'd wake up eventually; I TOLD you damned people!" He leaned over and kissed Keith.

Gorma cleared his throat. "Yes, well. . . .I would recommend you not get TOO excited, Captain McClain. It could take weeks, even months, for Captain Kogane to fully regain consciousness. And even then. . . . he will most likely not be the person he was, and some degree of impairment is a certainty."

"I don't give a damn," Lance retorted stubbornly. "He'll be alive and here, and that's all that matters."

Sven gave him a look, but it was Pidge of all people who spoke up. "What sort of impairment, and how can we help him?"

"Impossible to answer either of those questions until the Captain wakes, Lieutenant Stoker." Gorma took his glasses off and polished them. "I just wanted to be certain you were all aware of the likelihood."

"Thanks, doc," Hunk said quietly, putting a big hand on Keith's shoulder and regarding him sadly. The doctor nodded and slipped out as the Force talked softly.

Three weeks had gone by. Keith continued to show small signs of improvement, and Lance continued to tend his needs as he always had. Bathing, shaving, catheter and IV maintenance . . . despite his hectic schedule, Lance refused to allow anyone else to take care of Keith's more intimate needs. Keith had always been an intensely private and modest person, and Lance was determined to help him keep as much of his dignity intact as possible.

Of course, Lance's duties as Captain of the Force and head of Arus' Defense Garrison didn't let up just because he was playing nurse to Keith. Pidge and Hunk helped as much as they could, as did Allura's new Consort, Davidan. The brutal truth, however, was that only he could do most of his duties. Which had him regularly up til midnight, out of bed well before dawn, and going nonstop all day long. Given a choice between something that needed doing and a meal, Lance chose the task almost every time; it kept his schedule semi-manageable and also helped mute the ache of the still-lost bond with Keith. As compensation, he was smoking worse than he ever had, lighting one from another when the stress was particularly overwhelming.

Allura had been watching Lance from a distance for days, and didn't like what she was seeing. He was pale and unshaven with dark circles under his eyes, and was short-tempered with Force and staff alike. Cook reported he ate maybe once every other day or so; the maid in charge of his and Keith's quarters confided that his bed went unslept in. Enough was enough, she decided, and headed off to beard the lion in his den. She found him in his office, lost in a haze of old coffee, stale cigarette smoke, and a mountain of paperwork. "Well, so my best friend DOES still live, I see," she observed lightly from the door, trying not to cough. "Although I'm not sure how long that will continue, if he keeps going as he is."

The bleary, half-focused gaze he lifted to her was shockingly un-Lancelike. "I'm busy, Allura. Do you need something?"

She came into the room, not answering his question just yet, and opened the balcony door to air the place out. "I've barely seen you lately," she said quietly. "Not even at dinner, and Cookie made prime rib just for you last night. You look exhausted worse than the bad old days; I think a good stiff breeze would put you on your butt right now."

Lance waved a dismissive hand. "I'm fine, Princess. Just that time of year when the workload gets heavier. You worry too much."

Allura watched him for a minute. "You're probably right, but. . . why don't you leave that for now, come have dinner with the team? We've missed you, and you know you could use the break."

He shook his head, attention already back on his datapad. "Thanks, but I've got way too much to get done. I'll get somebody to bring me a tray up later. If you don't need anything else, I really need to get back to work."

She sighed. "So much for hoping you'd see reason," she muttered, then cleared her throat, voice formal. "Captain Lance Kogane-McClain. By Our decree, you are hereby relieved of duty as Commander of the Voltron Force and of Our defense forces, effective immediately. You will be reinstated in seven days' time."

Lance looked up slowly, bewildered. "Say WHAT? Allura, you can't!"

"I can and have." She met his gaze firmly. "The team can handle the critical things; the rest can wait. Lance, you're confined to quarters for the next twelve hours." She paused. "That includes seeing and caring for Keith."

"WHAT?! You BITCH! How _dare you!_ " Lance exploded out of his chair, fist cocked. Allura took a step back, eyes widening with fear. She could take a punch—Lance himself had taught her—but she'd never had anyone actually raise their hand to her in anger. "You have _no right!"_ Lance hissed, advancing on her, then froze. "Wh-what am I doing?" He stared at his raised fist in horror. "Holy hells. . . Allura, I'm sorry. . .I-"

It took all of Allura's diplomatic training to keep her voice steady. "Now you see why I'm relieving you. I don't know what's going on with you, Lance, other than trying to kill yourself with overwork and lack of self-care, but I DO know your behavior lately is unacceptable and very much unlike you. It can NOT continue. I will not ALLOW it to continue."

The Red Lion pilot dropped into his chair, head hanging. "I. . .understand. Red's giving me an earful, too. He says. . .not that it's an excuse for anything, but. . .he says I'm compensating. Losing the bond with Keith hurt worse than anything; getting it back is hurting, too."

She came to his side of the desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I can't even imagine. . . but it won't help anything to end up in a bed next to Keith, Lance. Go, clean up and eat, rest. Sven's on his way from Pollux; he promised he'll take care of Keith." The Norwegian, she knew, was the only possible substitute Lance would accept for Keith.

Lance nodded wearily, running his hand over his face, then slowly stood. A brief hug and whispered thanks for Allura, and he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wrong, everything felt wrong, like he was swimming in amber. Voices echoed, their words making no sense. Everything was darkness. Then. . .a blow to his stomach, a beloved voice calling his name in the dark. Points he could focus on, grasp to pull himself out of the amber dark trap._

Something was poking his arm, something else was poking . . . no, he wasn't going to dwell on THAT. And something wet was on his chest? Keith slowly opened his eyes to the unsettling picture of a dark-haired man, sponge in hand, clearly giving HIM a bath. He must have twitched unawares; the dark-haired man startled before breaking out in a smile that warmed his grey eyes. "Vell, _min bror,_ velcome back!"

 _Sven,_ Keith's still-foggy memory provided. His brother's accent was unmistakable, but . . . since when did the navigator have so much grey in his hair? Or those lines in his face? He opened his mouth to ask those questions, and so many more. . . . only to find his voice refused to work. The words were there, piling up in his brain, but he couldn't vocalize them!

"I'll go get Lance und Dr. Gorma," Sven continued, oblivious to Keith's mounting panic. "Lance vill be overjoyed dat you're avake, und Gorma vill vant to check you out."

 _Lance! Koibito, where are you, why aren't you here with me? Why is Sven bathing me, why's he look so different?_ He had to ask, he needed to know! He focused all his will on the questions, ordering the words to come. "Lunch?" finally came out of his mouth; his jaw AND Sven's dropped. _Where did THAT come from?_ Try as he might, though, no other words would come.

"Let me get Gorma, _min bror,_ " the Norwegian said quietly. "He can figure this out better than I can, and explain things." All Keith could do was nod wearily and close his eyes as Sven slipped out.

" _Dorogoi_? Keith, love, can you hear me? Please open your eyes." Keith obeyed to find Lance kneeling beside his bed, tears in his eyes as he held Keith's hand in both of his. "Oh, goddess. . . I felt you wake up, you're back, I love you, I knew you would wake up. . ."

He looked like hell, dark circles under his eyes, grey liberally scattered through his auburn hair. Keith wanted to reassure him, ask the million questions burning his mind . . . but the words still wouldn't come! "L—La—Lan. . ." he broke off in frustration. _DAMN IT TO ALL SEVEN HELLS! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?_

Understanding lit Lance's face. "Easy, easy. . .you've been sick a long time, _dorogoi._ Let me see if I can explain everything. _"_

Someone cleared their throat, and Dr. Gorma stepped into the room. "If I may, Captain McClain; let me examine Captain Kogane before we go any further."

 _CAPTAIN McClain? Just how long have I been out of it? Why can't I talk? WHAT'S going on?"_ As he raged internally, Lance stepped aside to make room for Gorma.

"Glad to see you amongst the living again, Captain," the Royal Physician said in his usual unflappable tones. "Do you know the date?"

 _Of course I do. . . don't I? It's 10 November 2318._ He stared at Gorma, trying as hard as he could to say the date; what came out was "Tennis night."

Gorma's eyes flew wide in surprise, as did Lance's, but then he continued in his same calm voice, "I see . . . we'll come back to that, then. Can you squeeze my hands, Captain?" Keith gave it his best shot; his right hand barely closed on Gorma's, and his left . . . his left stayed frozen atop the covers. Gorma said nothing, but moved to the foot of the bed and uncovered Keith's legs, repeating the procedure with the same results.

Keith's frustration was growing, and acquiring an edge of panic. _What the hell is going on? What's wrong with me, what's happened, WHY WON'T THEY TELL ME!_ He slammed his head against the pillows and grunted, unable to communicate any clearer. Exhausted, he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened.

A cool, callused hand descended on his shoulder. "Let me, Doc. He's giving me a headache with all the frustration he's pushing into the Bond." Lance's soft voice, Lance's hand moving to gently smooth his hair back. "Open your eyes and look at me, _dorogoi._ Let me fill in some blanks for you." Reluctantly, he looked up into Lance's emerald gaze. "Keith, my husband, my heart. . ." Lance took a breath, his voice soft and gentler than Keith had ever heard it. " _Dorogoi,_ today is March 12, 2320. The last battle was over two years ago. You took Lotor out, but he damned near took you with him. You've . . . you've been in a coma all that time. They weren't sure you would ever wake up again."

 _Well!_ That answered a lot of questions, but left even more in its wake. Like why he kept coming up with odd words instead of what he wanted to say.

Lance took his right hand. "I want you to squeeze once for yes, twice for no. I know you understand what we're saying." _Squeeze._ "OK . . . and you know who we are?" _Squeeze._ "Can you say my name?" _Two slow squeezes, and the tears threatening again._ "Sshhh . . . it's all right, love. We'll figure it out, we'll fix it. You're here, alive, back with us, nothing else matters." Lance's deft fingers caressed his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, taking solace from the connection.

Gorma cleared his throat. "If you would call your teammates and Their Majesties, Captain McClain, we can meet in my office and discuss Captain Kogane's condition."

Keith felt the panic start to well up again. _NO! Don't leave, I don't want to be left out, I need to hear this too!_ He pulled at Lance's hand as best he could; Lance squeezed once before withdrawing his hand and turning to Gorma.

"I'll call them, gladly," he said, typing into a strange device on his right arm. "But we're having this discussion right here. Keith might not can talk, but he CAN hear, and I WON'T let him be left out." He glared at the doctor, daring him to argue, but Gorma merely held his hands up in silent surrender. The device beeped multiple times, and he glanced at it. "They're on the way, except for Davidan—Allura's new husband, _dorogoi-_ ; he doesn't want to overwhelm Keith."

Keith and Gorma both nodded, Keith absently filing away the information that Allura had gotten married. Five minutes later, Sven and Allura walked into the room, followed by a grease-covered Pidge and Hunk. After the expected tears and greetings to Keith, they all turned their attention to Gorma.

"Welcome back, Captain; this is a significant improvement in your condition, to be sure, but there is still a long way to go. I'm sure you all realize that Captain Kogane's muscles have atrophied while he was comatose, and he will require significant physical therapy to regain their full use. However, that is merely the tip of the iceberg, as it were." The doctor took his glasses off and polished them before continuing, "As it stands right now, the Captain is completely paralyzed on his left side. He is also apparently suffering from a form of aphasia; he can hear and understand what is said, and by all indications is not impaired in his cognitive functions. However, he cannot speak, at least not correctly. He produces words, but they are unrelated to the topic of discussion."

Keith blushed furiously, both at the open discussion of his private medical information, and the fact that Gorma was talking AROUND, not TO him. "LEFT CHEER!" he snapped, glaring at Gorma. "Walk. . . TO me."

Lance was leveling his own glare, ignoring the gasps at Keith's mangled speech. "Don't talk like he's not in the room, Doc. We've had this discussion before."

"My apologies, Captains; I meant no insult to Captain Kogane." He sighed. "Unfortunately, Keith, this could be a product of the coma, or of the head injuries you suffered in the final battle. We will need to run a complete scan of your brain to determine the cause, but our scanner has broken down and we won't have parts for another week."

"If you don't mind me an' Pidgey havin' a look, maybe we can get it workin' sooner," Hunk offered, with a confirming nod from Pidge.

"That would be most appreciated, Lt. Garrett." Gorma glanced over at Keith, who was fighting to stay awake. "Right now, though, I believe we should all clear out so Keith can get some rest. He still has quite the battle ahead of him." The team quickly said their good nights and left, all but Lance who still sat at Keith's bedside, eying Gorma defiantly. "That did not apply to you, as you well know, Lance. You have not budged from his side unless absolutely necessary in over two years; I would not dream of forcing you out now." He gave one of his rare smiles, then slipped out of the room, leaving the couple alone.

Lance closed and locked the door behind him, dimming the lights before returning to a drowsy Keith. "Go to sleep, _dorogoi;_ I'll be right here all night."

Keith blinked at him, then patted his bed awkwardly. "Cheer?"

"No, I have my own." Lance pointed to the other bed that Keith hadn't noticed, going and pushing it against Keith's. He then stripped to his boxers and climbed in, pulling Keith close. "Sleep well, _mo chroí_ , my heart. Thank all the gods you've come back to me; I love you so, so much."


	3. Chapter 3

The walls were starting to close in on him, despite Lance's clear efforts to brighten them with photos of the team and their favorite spots on Earth and Arus, and Keith had finally had enough. Slowly he pushed the covers back and put his right foot on the floor, dragging his still-frozen left to join it . . . then fell flat on his face when he tried to stand. A stream of curses flew through his mind, emerging in the now-familiar—and loathed—random word salad that was all he was capable of speaking any more.

After what seemed an eternity, Lance's boots came into his field of vision. "Should've known not to leave you unsupervised," his husband chuckled. "Always the impatient one, _dorogoi._ " The boots disappeared, and Keith found himself rising from the floor, secure in Lance's arms. Then he was settled on his bed, Lance perched beside him. "I know you're ready to get out, love," Lance said softly. "But you have to be patient a while longer. You were in that coma a long time; you're just now getting healthy enough for physical therapy."

Keith just glared at him, his anger and frustration at the boiling point. Silently his right hand struck the bed, then flared into a flurry of motion.

"You're not useless, Keith," Lance said absently, eyes locked on the moving fingers, then he froze, looking up into his lover's eyes. " _Dorogoi,_ " he breathed. "Did . . . did you . . .?"

Slowly Keith lifted his hand between them, tears welling up in his eyes as his fingers moved. " _Lance. My Lance. I can sign! It works!"_

Lance found himself struggling to see through his own tears. "Oh, gods, Keith . . ." his words were cut off as Keith flung himself into his arms, weeping in relief. "Shh . . . shhh . . it's all right, _dorogoi._ I told you there had to be a way." He gently rubbed his husband's back, whispering to him in a mixture of their native Japanese and Russian.

A gentle throat-clearing from the door had them both looking up to find Dr. Gorma watching them curiously. "Dare I ask, Captains? I do not like displays of affection in my MedTech."

The Red Lion pilot flushed, but was unrepentant. "Doc . . . we just found out. . . Keith can still use _sign language_!"

Gorma blinked. "He . . . Captains, are you sure?" They both nodded. "I never would have suspected, but then . . . it never occurred to me that you knew sign language, Captain Kogane. My apologies for not considering the possibility."

Both men shook their heads. "You didn't know, Doc," Lance said quietly. "It's not something we make common knowledge. And we should've thought of it ourselves. No harm, no foul."

 _"But now we know,"_ Keith signed, pausing for Lance to interpret. _"And can use it."_

"Indeed," Gorma said thoughtfully. "I suppose this is some Garrison secret code? Can anyone be taught it, or is it limited to military members?"

Lance laughed. "Nothing secret about it, except the fact Garrison uses it. It's just Galactic Standard; I'm pretty sure you've got at least one person on staff that knows it."

"I see, and indeed I do; I'll have them assigned to Captain Kogane's care." The doctor shook himself. "I actually stopped by to tell the two of you that Captain Kogane is cleared to begin physical therapy; Carly will be here first thing in the morning to plan his regimen."

The pilots nodded. "I'll make sure I'm here to interpret," Lance said. Keith touched his sleeve and signed quickly. "Make sure she knows Keith understands what's said, even if he can't talk," Lance translated, "and he's not stupid. The worst thing she can do is patronize him."

"Have no fear, Captains. I am well aware of how the Force—ALL of you—respond to poor bedside manner. Carly knows how to handle you." After a few more pleasantries, Gorma took his leave, closing the door behind him.

 _"Therapy. At last, I can start getting back to normal,"_ Keith sighed. _"I hate being an invalid."_

"I know, _dorogoi._ " Lance took Keith's immobile left hand in both of his own. "But I want you to be prepared, love; chances are very good that you'll never be back to what you were before the last battle."

Keith couldn't pull his hand away, but he could and did glare at his husband. _"Could you be any less encouraging? You don't know I won't! I WILL get back to normal! You'll see! I can't believe you doubt me!"_

Lance blinked, then lightning flashed in his eyes. "Keith. . .," he said carefully, holding his temper by a thread. "I DON'T doubt you; I never HAVE, I never WILL. If I DID, I wouldn't have spent the last two damned years keeping vigil at your bedside when everyone else in the damned galaxy was telling me to move the fuck on, that you weren't going to ever wake up!" He took a breath and stood. "I just don't want to see you disappointed, _dorogoi._ That's all. I have to go now; meeting with the Garrison brass and Their Majesties. See you tomorrow." He stooped and swiftly kissed Keith, then left the room without another word.

Keith flopped back on his pillows with a frustrated snarl. _I can't BELIEVE he's doubting me! I ALWAYS recover, better than I was before! He's—he's jealous, that's all. Terrified I WILL recover, and take MY captaincy back. He always wanted command, now he's got it, wants to keep it. I don't think so._ I'M _commander of the Voltron Force!_ He drifted off to sleep, still ranting in his mind, not noticing Black's ominous silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Sven Holgersson hated MedTech. He hated the smells, the hushed voices, the beeping machinery . . . it all took him back to the darkest period in his life, when everything he knew was torn from him, when his life and who he was changed irrevocably. But he loved his brothers, almost as much as he loved his _elske_ , and so he came once a week to visit his broken brother, to give respite where he could.

Maybe it was that he knew Keith better than most; maybe it was that he wasn't on Arus every day. But on his second visit after Keith's awakening, he realized something wasn't . . . right with his former captain. Keith had always been patient to a fault, and rarely short or cross in his dealings with other people. But now, as Sven watched, it seemed his oldest friend had been replaced with a stranger. Keith frequently threw things across the room, smashed his paralyzed arm against the bed rails, and even though he never spoke, Sven didn't have to interpret his sign language to know he was being brusque and rude with the MedTech staff and everyone else unfortunate enough to cross his path. Lance seemed oblivious in his joy at having Keith awake, but Sven was worried. Which led him to Dr. Gorma's office.

The Royal Physician looked up in surprise at the knock on his door. "Commander Holgersson! What a surprise! Please, come in; what can I do for you?"

Sven dropped into a chair with none of his usual grace. "You can tell me about Keit's personality problem, und vhy it is not being addressed."

Dr. Gorma eyed him for a minute. "You know I cannot talk to you about the Captain's condition. And if anyone should be expressing concern, it is Captain McClain."

"Except Lance is so overjoyed, understandably so, to haf Keit back he is seeing none of de problems," Sven countered bluntly. "Und it has to be addressed. Keit has not hurt anyvon . . . yet. But he very vell could, und I tink you know dat as vell as I do." Sven sat forward, concern in his grey eyes. "Dr. Gorma. . . Miklos . . . please. I ask as deir oldest friend. Talk to me. Perhaps together ve can see an answer."

Gorma pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Personality changes are not uncommon with traumatic brain injury. The fact that Captain Kogane is, and most likely will continue to be, severely handicapped by his body's new limitations, only exacerbates those changes."

Sven nodded grimly. "So haf I seen. Und you haf said noting of dis to Lance. Vhy?"

"You said it yourself, Commander; Captain McClain is overjoyed to have Captain Kogane amongst the living once more. And unprofessional and derelict of my duty as it may be. . ." Gorma sighed. "I could not bear to deprive him of that joy before it was absolutely necessary."

"I cannot fault you." the former Blue Lion pilot toyed with the signet ring on his left hand before meeting the doctor's gaze again. "But Keit is a time bomb. He vill hurt somevon badly soon. Lance needs to hear dis."

"I am aware, Commander. He will not be happy."

Sven made a face. "You haf a talent for understatement, Doctor. But I vill help you. Und keep him from taking his anger out on you or anyvon else. Let me call him."

Lance, unaware of the conversation in MedTech, had had a good morning. Davidan had expressed an interest in being a backup pilot, if not replacing Allura entirely, and so Lance had taken him out in Red, showing him the ropes and testing his ability. The Prince Consort had proven to be a competent pilot, if not as flashy as Lance himself, and Red approved of him. So, it was a very cheerful Captain who walked into his husband's room, a smile on his lips. "Good morning, _dorogoi!"_

Keith, clearly just back from physical therapy, glared at him, the glare deepening to a scowl as he took in Lance's uniform, eyes lingering on the captain's pips on the other man's collar. _"Maybe for you, CAPTAIN,"_ his fingers flew. _"Have a good flight? Enjoying yourself while I'm out of the way? Or maybe you were finding my replacement—in the cockpit AND your bed. If you haven't already."_

The words were no less venomous for being signed; Lance rocked back as though struck. "What the hell are you talking about? There is not and will never be anyone but you in my bed. I LOVE YOU. I've waited two years for you. Yeah, I'm looking for another pilot, I fucking HAVE to. But not to replace you; NOBODY can replace you. You're always going to be part of this team! If you don't believe me, ask Black!"

Keith snarled soundlessly. _"ASK Black? That's a good one. He hasn't said a damned thing to me since I woke up. Guess he replaced me too. Get out, Lance. I'm tired."_

Lance's jaw hit the floor. "WHAT? _Dorogoi_ , what do you mean he hasn't said anything? You don't hear him at all?"

" _I SAID GET OUT!"_ Keith erupted from the bed, swinging his good hand in a vicious backhand that caught Lance off guard and sent him sprawling. _"Don't pretend you don't know; don't try to make nice. You got captain, you're the big man now. Go screw whoever's warming your bed, leave me alone!"_

Stunned, all Lance could do was stare at his husband in disbelief, one hand cradling his jaw. Keith turned his back, climbing into bed and pulling the covers over himself completely.

Thirty seconds after Lance hit the floor, Sven sprinted into the room, Gorma on his heels. " _Gud i himmeln,_ " he breathed, taking in the scene. "Vhat in all hells happened here?"

"He hit me," Lance whispered brokenly. "Accused me of cheating on him, of replacing him on the team . . . then HIT me. ME, Sven!"

The Norwegian sighed, extending a hand to help Lance up. "Go talk to Allura, _min bror._ I vill talk to Keit, den come find you, ja?"

Lance, eyes suspiciously bright, slowly nodded, throwing a pleading glance towards the bed before fleeing the room. Sven watched him go impassively, then moved to sit within Keith's line of sight. "Explain. NOW. Lance lufs you more dan his own life; for two years, his life vas dis room. Dat bed. Dis chair. How could you tink he vould EVER replace you?" Sven knew the answer was his brother's injury, but wanted to see what rationale Keith would come up with.

A hand emerged from the blankets. " _Don't try and take his side. I KNOW. Go away, Sven. I'm tired, don't feel like fucking with you people anymore, and don't owe you a damned THING."_

"I am taking novon's SIDE. Und I am going novhere until you talk to me, Keit Kogane." A low growl was Sven's only warning as Keith surged up from the bed, right fist sailing for Sven's jaw as it had Lance's earlier. Sven caught it, face expressionless. "I am also not Lance McClain; I VILL NOT allow you to strike me, und I VILL hit back if I must. Do not push, _min bror._ "

Keith glared for a minute, then abruptly went limp and fell back into the bed. Dr. Gorma, forgotten in the moment, stepped from behind him serenely, syringe still in his hand. "He'll be out for a few hours, Commander. I suggest you use that time to gather your team and decide on a course of action."

Lance had wandered from MedTech in a daze, completely unaware of where he was going or the looks he was getting, until a slender hand touched his arm. "Lance? Lance, what happened to you? Please, say something!" He blinked, startled to find himself sitting in the Royal Suite, a very worried Allura peering down at him. "There you are," she breathed in relief, handing him a glass. "Drink; it's Father's Arcturian brandy, and you look like you could use it." Lance drank it in one shot, hardly noticing, then downed the refill Allura wordlessly gave him before slumping in his chair. Allura knelt before him, her hands clasping his. "Can you talk about it, aniki?" she asked softly.

Lance gently squeezed her hands and took a ragged breath, then another. "I went to see Keith after practice. He. . . gods, he was horrible." He swallowed, trying to steady his voice and nerves. "He accused me of replacing him, on the team AND in my bed. The things he said, 'Lura. . .so hateful; I've NEVER heard such from him, never! And then. . . when I didn't leave fast enough. . ." his voice failed, and one hand came up to trace the darkening bruise on his jaw. Allura gasped, but he barely heard as he fought himself. "My Keith. . ." he whispered brokenly. "He's gone, I've lost him. I waited so long for him. . .And now. . . . " The tears he had been fighting finally overpowered him, and his body shook with grief.

Allura didn't hesitate. She scrambled into the seat next to Lance and wrapped her arms around him, whispering soothingly as tough, brash, Lance McClain had the breakdown she'd been expecting for two years. As he cried into her blouse, she silently cursed the Drules and the indifferent Fates for breaking such a strong man, for destroying Keith, and wondered just what was to be done about it all.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a grim group that gathered in Gorma's conference room: Lance, face swollen and bruised, staring dazedly at nothing; Allura at his right, holding his hand in both of hers and talking to him softly; Sven on his left, lending his silent strength as always; Pidge and Hunk bookending the trio with shocked expressions. "I still can't believe it," Pidge said softly, looking around Allura to take in the vivid wreck of his commander's face. "Keith . . . Keith's _never_ been violent. Not unless it was a last resort. And to hit _Lance_ , of all people. You're his _Bonded_. From what I understand, and what Green tells me, hitting you should hurt him as much as it does you!"

Lance slowly turned to look at Pidge as though seeing him for the first time. "It _should,_ " he said after a long minute, "The gods know I still feel _his_ pain. But it didn't seem to bother him. And the accusations he made—" Lance's voice broke; he took a sip of water and continued, "He _knows—_ or knew—that I _can't_ cheat on him, even if I wanted to. I just. . . I just don't understand. It's like the Bond isn't even there. How can that be?" he finished in a lost whisper unlike anything the team had ever heard from him.

Someone cleared their throat at the door. "I am sorry to say that I may have the answer to that, Captain McClain." Dr. Gorma came into the room, carrying a datapad, and went to the head of the table. "We just got the results of Captain Kogane's latest brain scans; let me show you." A hologram shimmered into existence over the table, showing a brightly lit 3D image of a brain. "This is a scan of Captain Kogane's brain, taken at his last physical before the incident. As you can see, the Captain has above average activity here and here." Gorma pointed to two areas which Lance knew to be Keith's injury sites. "Now. . . THIS was taken just yesterday afternoon." The hologram changed, greeted by gasps of horror and profanity in Baltan, Japanese, Norse, and Gaelic. The entire image was noticeably dimmer; what caught the team's attention were the numerous black spots over its surface.

Allura found her voice first. "What are we looking at, Dr. Gorma? What does this mean for Keith?"

"Several things, Majesty." Gorma took his glasses off and polished them. "You all know of his paralysis and aphasia issues, as well as – _ahem_ —his behavioral changes. Additionally, we've learned in the course of his therapy that his depth perception and balance are affected. In most people, it would not be enough to even comment on, but for Captain Kogane, as an elite pilot and martial artist—"

" _Gud i himmeln,_ " Sven breathed. "His flying. His aikido and Tai Chi practice. Are you saying dey are gone, Doctor?"

Gorma hesitated. "You all would know far better than I, Commander. I am no expert in those matters. But I would have to say yes."

"It'll destroy him." The barely audible whisper came from Lance. "That's. . . that's two of three things that meant everything to him. . . before. Doc, you have to be wrong!"

"I wish I were, Captain. Believe me." The doctor removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "I went so far as to send Captain Kogane's scans to the head of neurology at Garrison Medical. He. . . concurred completely."

Lance opened his mouth to give his opinion of idiot doctors, then froze at Red's familiar touch on his thoughts, the usual warm affection tinged with gentle sorrow and regret. _"The Healer speaks truth, Fireheart, much though I wish it otherwise. The Alpha has been trying to reach Stormsoul since he woke; while Alpha can hear Stormsoul's thoughts, he says that Stormsoul cannot hear HIM."_ The revelation stunned Lance; of all of them, Keith had always had the tightest bond with his Lion. He would have sworn that even the Goddess herself couldn't break it.

Allura's touch on his arm jerked him out of his stupor; judging by her expression and his teammates', their Lions had told them the same thing Red told him. Taking a breath, he repeated Red's words for Gorma and Romelle's benefit, hesitating a painful moment before adding, "He . . . he doesn't feel his Bond with me, either. He said so."

" _Min gud_ , what do we do, then?" Sven asked. "Black needs a permanent pilot, the Force needs a commander, is Lance going to be able to cope vell enough to handle Keit und command?"

Lance couldn't breathe; the oxygen seemed gone from the room. All they had been through, the brotherhood he _thought_ they'd shared, and _that_ was Sven's reaction? Stricken, he looked around the room. Gorma and Romelle were expressionless; Allura was watching him with sympathy. But Hunk and Pidge. . . they were nodding in agreement with Sven. Abruptly, he stood, chair crashing behind him, and fled the room of traitors before he could say something he would regret later.

He couldn't think, couldn't see; all he could do was run. Run away from the pain of his team's casual dismissal of Keith, away from the thwarted Bond that writhed in his chest incomplete. When he finally stopped, he found himself sprawled next to Black's pedestal, with the Lion's shadow blanketing him.

" _Oh, my poor Heart,"_ Red whispered into his raw thoughts, gentler than Lance had ever heard him, warming and numbing the pain. _"They do not mean to hurt; in truth, Iceblade was not thinking when he spoke, and he bitterly regrets his words to you. His mate has been quite harsh to him on that subject."_ The Lion paused, as if choosing his words. _"Fireheart . . . the Alpha would speak with you. And I think you know why."_

Lance froze. "No," he whispered. "No, Black is _Keith's_ , he's always been Keith's. I won't take him, I can't take him, I won't give YOU up, Red! Please. . ." his voice broke. "Please don't take another thing from me. I can't-I can't bear it. No more."

" _I would not have it so either, reluctant Alpha."_ With a shock, Lance realized the voice in his thoughts belonged, not to Red now, but to BLACK. _"Stormsoul was my choice, would still BE my choice were he himself. But he is not. Nor is he likely to be. The Pride cannot function without a leader; YOU must be that leader. You must step in where your mate has fallen. Else the Pride falls."_ The voice fell silent; Red didn't speak up to fill the void.

Lance knew his duty; he'd done it for two years, confident he could hand it over to Keith any day, just as soon as his _dorogoi_ woke up. Taking it on permanently wasn't something he was ready to face. Because that would mean acknowledging that Keith, his Keith, his beloved, was gone forever. Shaking his head wildly, he scrambled to his feet and headed inside. Using the servants' passages, he made it to his rooms unseen and fell into his favorite chair, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. After a few drags, he reached into the bookcase beside him, coming up with his favorite _uisce beatha_ , scorning both glass and ice to drink directly from the bottle. _"Maybe. . . maybe if I drink enough, I won't think. I won't feel. I won't_ hurt. _Please, gods."_ Soon the bottle was empty, and Lance was passed out where he sat, tears still glistening on his cheeks.


	6. Chapter 6

Keith had had enough of MedTech, of the lies, the plots people didn't think he knew about. Once the place quieted for the night, he slipped from his room, wincing as his useless leg dragged, and made his way to Castle Control.

To his surprise, the nerve center was dark and unmanned. Shaking his head at the sloppy security, he brought up enough of the systems to get out to Black—and froze at the sight of his Voltcom lying on the charger abandoned. After a bit of fumbling and cursing, he got it locked in place on his right arm and headed out to Black.

The Lion was as dark and silent as Control had been, with none of the sense of presence and welcome that Keith usually got from Black. _Why am I surprised?_ he thought, rolling his eyes. _He's moved on like everyone else._ Shaking his head, Keith moved his Voltcom closer to the ignition grid, scowling when he got no reaction. _"COME ON!"_ he screamed in his head, desperate for Black to hear him. _"I NEED THIS, don't turn your damned back on me!"_

Suddenly Black's speakers crackled to life. "I have done no such thing, StormSoul," a voice rumbled. "Still are you my Bonded, always will you be. But . . . your injuries were such . . . my heart, no matter how I scream into your mind, you do not hear me. You cannot, and never will again."

Keith's jaw dropped. _"No. . . you're wrong, you have to be wrong! You just want to be rid of me, like that bastard Lance! I KNOW he's got someone else; who do you have?"_

A deafening roar shook the cockpit. "Mind your tone, StormSoul! I do NOT wish to be rid of you, and WOULD not if I could choose to do so! And as for Fireheart . . . look and see what 'that bastard' did the last two years!" Images flooded Keith's mind then; himself, lying in Black's cockpit, still and broken as Lance cradled him, heedless of his own injuries; Lance sitting beside a hospital bed where he lay, holding his hand and crying as Keith had never seen him do, begging Keith to please wake up, Lance loved him, Lance needed him; Lance caring for his unresponsive body, sitting beside him day after day, arguing with their teammates and the doctors who said he would never wake. . . "Tell me, StormSoul; what sort of 'bastard' does all of that?"

Keith sat in stunned silence, unable to answer for a long minute. _"He . . . he was there all that time? But . . . he would have had to take MY place too! He couldn't have done both!"_

Black snorted. "He did. And very nearly put himself into a bed next to you, were it not for the Queen ordering him to stand down now and then." The voice softened. "Fireheart loves you, StormSoul; as do I. You know I would not lie to you, especially not in this. Your injuries destroyed the parts of your brain that controlled your Bond to me, and to him. WE can feel YOU, but . . . you cannot feel either of us." A long pause. "And I fear that with the damage to your coordination, and the paralysis you suffer . . . my Bonded, I cannot permit you to fly me. Not alone."

Keith stared at the console, dumbfounded and heartbroken. " _Never? And . . . there's nothing to be done about my Bond with you, with Lance?"_

The voice grew softer, gentler than anything Keith had ever heard from Black. "No, my brother. I wish there were; I have asked . . . Others, if it could be mended. Such is not to be."

Part of Keith wanted to scream, to deny the words, to accuse Black of lying . . . but the Lion had never lied to him. Wasn't capable of lying to him, Black had said when they first bonded. _"Then . . . then my life is over. All the things I loved most . . ."_ He bowed his head as silent tears fell on Black's controls.

"My poor StormSoul." The voice was gentler still, and a purring filled the cockpit. "Much do you have to live for still. Fireheart loves you with all of his being, Bond or no Bond, and I know well that you love him the same, beneath your hurt. So much is there for you and he to share, with each other and the universe." There was silence for a moment, and Keith's skin tingled as Black's presence embraced him. "You are being searched for; go, StormSoul. Think on what I have said. And remember that I am always here for you."

Keith nodded, shakily wiping his face, then hit the switch that would return him to Castle Control. As his chair locked into the shuttle, he clenched his fist in anger. _Very pretty story, all of it. But it's bullshit. Black could fix the Bonds if he wanted to; he just wants me out of the way so he can be happy with Lance and Lance can get on with whoever he's screwing. I'm not that stupid_ or _gullible._

An expressionless Sven was waiting for him at the top of Black's chute. "Figured dat vas vhere you vould go," the Norwegian said quietly. "Lance is very vorried _, min bror_ ; he has had all of us scouring de Castle for you."

Keith scowled, and his fingers flew. " _I don't need a babysitter! All of you can go to hell. And leave me alone."_ He tried to shove past Sven, but would have had more luck moving Black.

"I am not here to babysit you. Or pity you." Sven was implacable as ever. "I vanted to talk to you. . . to tell you dat. . .devastating as dis is, _min bror,_ much as it is de end of everyting you haf known til now. . . life vill go on. You CAN adjust, be happy, if you vant." He absently rubbed his shoulder, as if to shift an ache. "Focus on vhat you CAN do, rather den vhat you cannot. You haf your _elskede_ , who vaited for you vhen de rest of us had moved on vit life, much to our shame." He pinned Keith with an intense cobalt glare. "Still are you de brilliant tactician you haf alvays been. Noting is wrong vit dat mind of yours, Keit! Figure out how to _use_ dat, instead of mourning vhat is not und vill never be again."

Keith brought his hand up again, fingers already moving to tell Sven he didn't, _couldn't possibly_ know what he was talking about . . . then froze at the memory of his Scandinavian friend lying crumpled and bloody in a dusty, deserted square, fighting for every breath, every moment of life, as Keith and Lance held him. Sven _did_ know what he was talking about, as no other person on the planet possibly could. His entire world had crashed and forever changed, just as Keith's had. But . . . Sven, with Romelle's patient love, had come back stronger and better. Could Keith do the same? _"Fireheart loves you with all of his being, Bond or no Bond, and I know well that you love him the same, beneath your hurt."_ Black's words came back to him then, and he nodded to himself before looking to Sven. _"Can. . . can you help me? Show me how to move on?"_

Sven's face softened into an expression reserved for his family. "Of course, _min bror._ Gladly." He paused. "I know it looks like de end of de vorld, und in a vay it is. But . . . Lance still you haf. Me. Romelle und Erik. De _prinsesse,_ Pidge und Hunk. Ve, all of us, LOVE you, _min bror._ Ve care not vhat has happened. Still are you our broder. Erik's _Onkel._ Lance's _elskede._ Never vill dat change."

Keith blinked at the words, his hostility running away like water. That had been his fear, ever since he woke up; that since he was crippled, unable to do the things he once had, that his family, his _Lance_ would find better people to replace him. Abruptly everything crashed in on him, and he fell into Sven's waiting arms, sobbing hoarsely.

"Shhh," Sven whispered, gently rubbing his brother's back as he would Erik's after a nightmare. "It is all right, Keit. Ve haf you. You vill be fine. Trust me."


	7. Chapter 7

Lance woke up to a head that felt like his Lion had sat on it, and a mouth like yesterday's ashtray. A trip to his bathroom later, he was human enough to leave his rooms and make the daily trek to MedTech. The fight with Keith, the bombshell from Red and Black . . . he'd thought them all over in the shower, and come to a hard decision. As he walked down the corridor, he could feel Red's disapproval at the back of his mind, as well as Black's. _You both know it has to be this way,_ he thought in irritation. _Keith is my_ husband; _he needs me. And as much as I enjoy flying, enjoy my bond with you . . . we all know that I'm getting a bit long in the tooth for a combat pilot. You'd have to replace me in a few years anyway._

 _You are not even thirty years old,_ Red countered sharply. _I have had pilots twice your age! You have an obligation, you made vows!_

Lance stopped dead, darting into an empty reception room. _I know my damned age. I also know the damage I've taken, Red! My leg hasn't been the same since that last battle, my reflexes aren't what they were . . . and on the subject of obligations and vows, what about mine to Keith? Let's be completely honest here; it will kill me to leave you, you_ know that. _But I know you will find another, have already been looking unless I miss my guess. I'm all Keith's got. If I don't take care of him, he'll end up warehoused in a Garrison nursing home. But more than that . . . it's not just obligation. In spite of everything that's happened, all the changes in him, he's still my_ dorogoi _, and I still love him with all that I have, am, and ever will be._

 _Well spoken, and well-reasoned,_ Black rumbled. _Our apologies, Fireheart; we had to be certain. It is rare enough to release a Bond in a case like StormSoul's; to release yours, when you yourself are healthy and young? We have never done so before now._

 _Wait, WHAT?_ Lance groped for a chair as his legs gave way. _You're going to let me go? Just like that?_

Red chuckled. _It is a Bond, not a prison sentence, Fireheart. And though neither Alpha nor I relish the thought of losing you . . . as you say, StormSoul needs you more. And you need him._

 _I . . . I don't know what to say._ The relief was overwhelming Lance; he had been going crazy, trying to figure out a way to manage both of his obligations and finding no solution. _Oh gods, Red. . . Black . . . thank you._

 _You are most welcome, Fireheart._ Black's voice was amused. _Now, go to your mate. Much do you have to work out between you, and your path is a long and difficult one._

Lance sagged in his chair, fighting the wave of despair and frustration that overwhelmed him at Black's words. _I know. Gods, do I know. I've been patient for two years; I was hoping . . . never mind. Just one more damned thing this FUCKING war cost us._

 _ ***And one more thing I am not willing to allow, Lance Charles of Clan McClain.***_ The light from the window flared painfully; when Lance's vision cleared, a winged woman was silhouetted against the still bright window. _***Much have you and your beloved sacrificed for this galaxy; I cannot restore all, but I can restore some of what was.***_

"Re-restore? Restore what?" Hope warred with skepticism in Lance's heart. "Can you make Keith talk again? Give him his body back?" _Please,_ he thought desperately, closing his eyes. _I love him as he is, I always will, but. . . I'd give anything to have_ SOME _of what he used to be. To have him at least remember he loves me._

Cool fingers brushed his hair from his forehead, and he felt his connection to Keith ease from its near-constant twisting. ***** _ **So much am I not permitted, and in truth lack the power to accomplish,***_ the voice whispered, the mourning in it bringing Lance to the verge of tears. _***But this much is within my scope, at least.***_ The fingers stilled on Lance's temple, and warmth spread over his body from the touch. _***Let the Bond that was be restored; let love be renewed once more.***_

A wave of anger and frustration washed over Lance, followed by despair and loneliness. His eyes flew open as he realized . . . "Keith," he breathed, the threatened tears becoming reality as the Bond with Keith resolved itself. "Oh, gods, _dorogoi . . ."_ He looked up at the woman. "You—you gave him back to me. I don't know how, or why, or what it'll cost me later, but _thank you!_ " Without another word, or waiting for a response, Lance jumped up, kissed her soundly, and then flew out of the room as though chased.

Brigid—for Brigid of Ireland she was, summoned by Lance's Celtic blood—stared bemusedly after her young warrior, one hand going to her lips. No mortal had acted so with her in _millennia!_ An ethereal snickering brought her out of her daze to see two of the Guardian spirits—no, _Lions_ —sitting beside her, looking between her and the door. And laughing their tails off. *Forgive us, Holy One,* the Red spirit finally managed. *But—your face!*

The Black spirit sobered quickly at Brigid's scowl. *We should have warned you, Divine. Fireheart is . . . most exuberant. And you restored what he thought lost forever.*

Brigid shook off her foul humor and laughed. _***No harm, and I well understand. Watch over them, my children.***_ And with that she was gone, still smiling and touching her lips.

In the meantime, Lance had sprinted for Medtech, slowing only to apologize to the random people he ran into. After what felt like forever, he burst into Keith's room, finding his husband sitting at the window. "Keith? _Dorogoi?_ " he whispered, almost afraid that it had all been a dream.

The black-haired former captain turned towards him, a soft smile lighting his face. _"Lance. . . Koibito. . ."_ the smile faded as he held out his good hand; Lance came and sat beside him, holding his immobile left hand. _"I remember now. I'm so, so sorry. . ."_ He reached up and touched Lance's bruised jaw with gentle fingers. _"Can you ever forgive me? I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."_

"Shhh. . ." Lance slipped his arms around Keith, pulling him into a firm embrace that Keith returned one-handed, then kissed him gently. "Of course I do; there's nothing to forgive. I love you, Keith Akira. We'll be all right."


	8. Chapter 8

Captain Lance Kogane-McClain walked out of the weekly defense meeting immensely satisfied. Pidge—no, _Commander Stoker_ —was adjusting well to commanding the Voltron Force, after almost a year in the position, and now had two full teams to pilot the Lions. _Backups_ , Lance reflected wryly. _Now that we're at peace, we have_ backups, _plural_. _How many times in the bad old days would we have sold our souls for just one extra pilot?_ He shook his head; it didn't matter now, the important thing was that the backup was there, along with the beginnings of a military that Allura and Davidan took great pride in. Despite being retired from the Force, Lance and Keith were still in demand for their insight into military matters, and Lance taught a flight class via com for the Garrison once a week. _Which reminds me, I need to talk to Sven about his guest lecture before they leave._

All thoughts of work vanished when he opened the door to his suite. Hiding a smile, he leaned against the jamb to watch the scene within. Keith was sitting at his desk, little Erik Holgersson tucked against his side. And together, the legendary warrior and the heir to the Polluxian throne were . . . coloring? As a matter of fact, they were. It was Wednesday, after all, and nobody, not kings, queens or doctors, intruded on Keith's standing date with his nephew.

"NO, Unca Keith! Not like that!" Erik's face twisted in a miniature of Sven's best glare as he scolded Keith. "You can't make bears BLUE; they're brown!"

Lance fought laughter down as Keith grinned at Erik before turning and signing to his datapad. "Are you sure?" a mechanical voice asked. "I've seen blue bears, purple ones too." Lance took a moment to thank Brighid for the blessing that was Pidge Stoker. The young genius had worked almost non-stop until he came up with a program that could recognize sign and turn it into vocalizations, saying that it wasn't right for Keith to be so locked in his own head.

Erik pondered Keith's statement with all the solemnity a four year old could muster. "So, they're _real?_ Really real, Unca Keith?" Keith nodded, and that settled it for Erik; he contentedly returned to his coloring.

Lance stepped into the room. "Well, what's all this? I came to see who wanted lunch, but looks like you two are having too much fun! I guess I'll go alone, then." He laughed softly at Keith's wounded look, then braced himself just in time to catch Erik barreling into him. "Oh, so you DO want to eat? Come on, then; Nanny'll have it on the table before we get there, and Uncle Hunk told me he was hungry." The little boy took off with a squeal; Lance and Keith followed at Keith's slower pace.

 _*Oh, to have his energy,*_ Keith chuckled silently. _*How was the meeting?*_

"Most of the usual." Lance wrapped his hand around Keith's. "Sven says they'll have the new Valkyries online by the end of the month, Pidge is watching a pocket of Doom sympathizers that are making noise on Tyrus . . ." he stopped and faced his husband. "And I told them, _dorogoi._ About us."

Keith studied Lance's face for a long moment. _*You're calm; I guess they took it well?*_

Lance shrugged. "They aren't happy, which we knew they wouldn't be, but they understand our reasons." He kissed Keith's cheek before they started walking again. "Got a note from Farla this morning; the cottage is stocked and ready whenever we want to show up."

 _*Good. Most of our stuff is packed up; there's just a few things I couldn't get by myself. I hate to leave, but . . . I'm going to go crazy if we stay here.*_

The months since Keith woke up had been difficult. Adjusting to Keith's limitations had been frustrating for them both, leading to more than one fight, as had losing their connections to their respective Lions. Worst of all, though, had been the people, some well-intentioned, some not so much, who came to the Castle expecting to see their legendary heroes. Who were disappointed, even angry, when Keith and Lance displayed neither the inclination nor capability to play the part any more. It never stopped, despite Allura and Davidan's best efforts, and they had finally reached their limit.

Lunch was a subdued affair; Keith and Lance's announcement, although expected, had still been a shock, and the rest of the team was plainly still processing it. It was a relief when everyone finally fled for afternoon meetings and projects, whether real or invented on the spot. Keith and Lance returned to their quarters, where Lance made quick work of the little packing remaining before they settled in for Keith's daily physical therapy. The former captain's left side was still weak, and probably always would be, but months of patient work—and countless nights of tears on both their parts—had given Keith back the minimal use of that arm and leg, and they were both determined he should keep it.

 _*Beloved . . . are you sure we are doing the right thing? I. . . I don't want to leave Arus. We have a duty here.*_

Lance paused in working Keith's left hand, and knelt to meet his husband's troubled gaze with his own clear green one. " _Dorogoi_ , we talked about this. Our duty was to beat Zarkon and Lotor. We did it, and paid a hellacious price for it. Our duty is NOT to hang around the Castle, being display pieces for any and everybody in the damned Alliance that wants to come gawk at the Mighty Voltron Force!" He took a breath and continued in a calmer voice, "We've more than done our part, Keith. This is time for us now, time we've earned. And we can't enjoy it, enjoy _each other_ , here." He raised Keith's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Besides, it's not like we're going into permanent exile. You know Gorma will expect you to keep your monthly appointments with him, Allura's threatened dire and unspeakable things if we don't come to dinner at least twice a month, and do YOU want to be the one to tell Erik his Uncas are going away forever?"

Keith chuckled, both at the picture Lance's words painted and at his _koibito_ 's woebegone face during his last words. _*No, anything but that! You're right, of course; I just . . .*_ He watched Lance for a long minute, raising his right hand to cup the other man's cheek. _*Leaving is admitting that my life as a soldier really is over. But . . . if I am honest, it HAS been over for a long time. And staying here, seeing someone else fly Black, that would hurt more than leaving.*_

"Exactly, _dorogoi,"_ Lance murmured, leaning up for a long kiss and smoothing Keith's long hair back from his face. "We need a new beginning, a place to rest and recover. And it's waiting for us on Lyra." Another kiss, deep and hungry this time, before he forced himself back on his heels. "Right now, though, you owe me ten lifts each with your arm and leg. Then we'll shower and go to dinner." Keith glared, but obediently returned to his therapy.

Three days later, it was time to go. Goodbyes were said, promises to keep in touch and visit often were demanded and given on all sides, hugs exchanged, kisses delivered. Finally, the Kogane-McClains boarded their ship, Lance at the controls with Keith beside him, and left Arus for their next chapter together.


End file.
